


This is How We Begin

by hwrites



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 07:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17638067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwrites/pseuds/hwrites
Summary: They meet in a coffee shop on a snowy Monday a few weeks after Christmas.





	This is How We Begin

“I’d like a caramel macchiato with two extra pumps of caramel,” the woman standing in front of the counter recites as Tessa scribbles on the coffee cup as fast as possible. “Oh, and a chocolate doughnut.”

It’s a Monday morning a few weeks after Christmas, and the snow and slush aren’t going anywhere for the foreseeable future. 

Judging by the line that’s almost out the door of the coffee shop that Tessa works in, it’s the morning rush hour. She doesn’t focus on that, though, only the fact that she has to get through the line as quickly as she can, just so they don’t get another complaint. The last one had been from a regular, which had surprised her as much as it hurt her.

“Here you go,” she tells the woman moments later, handing her the doughnut and the coffee.

As the next person in line steps up to the counter, Tessa really wishes that rush hour can be over, because she’s been here since six-thirty and people haven’t been very nice to her – 

Someone clears their throat, and her eyes flicker up to see an older man, the morning newspaper tucked under his arm and his mouth set in a thin line.

She’s quick to plaster on a smile, and instinctively her hand reaches under the counter, to the shelf where the cups are stored.

All she grasps onto is air.

_Shit._

There's no more cups. Great.

As if the people in line aren't already upset, now she has to go grab more cups, which means that they will have to wait even longer for their orders.

Tessa supposes there's really nothing she can do about that.

“Just wait one more minute, please. I have to go grab more cups,” Tessa says, and she swears the man’s eyebrows lift for the briefest of seconds.

She rushes off to the back without answering, grabs a stack of cups, and pulls off the plastic cover in one swift motion. It falls to the floor, but she doesn’t have time to pick it up.

“Aren’t you supposed to be good at your job?” the man grits out as she returns.

It isn’t the worst thing anyone has ever said to her, but she crosses her arms over her chest and blinks away tears as that one comment sends the rest of people in line into a frenzy.

“Yeah, I’m going to be late for work!” someone else shouts.

“Now I’ll have to pay the babysitter for an extra hour, because that’s how long I’ve been in this damn line!” comes another response over the shouting coming from all directions.

Tessa stares at the man, who’s still ranting about how he hasn’t gotten his coffee, and raises an eyebrow. “You never gave me your order, so it’s technically _your_ fault that you’re still standing in line.”

He sighs sharply and throws up his hands, walking out of the store without another word.

 

Tessa’s boss, a sometimes-scary, middle-aged woman named Clementine, scrubs her hands over her face two hours later as the two stand in her office.

Clementine’s grey hair is pulled back into a low, tight bun, and she stares at the employee in front of her for a long time before saying anything.

The man from earlier had complained, which led to Tessa being called into Clementine’s office.

“Tessa, you know that you can’t talk to customers that way, right?”

“Absolutely, Clementine. It won’t happen again, it’s just really hard to get through rush hour when there’s fifty people in line and only one of me. If we could get someone else in here, at least in the morning, that’d be great.”

Her boss considers this for a moment, just as Tessa hears the bell over the entrance to the shop ring.

“I’ll be right back,” she promises, as Clementine shoos her out of the office.

“It’s okay, just . . . find a way to deal with the stress, eh? Take a boxing class, or something.”

“I’ll figure something out,” she mumbles as she heads to the front of the store.

There’s a small line that’s formed, and this time, luckily, no one makes rude or mean comments to her about anything.

The last guy in line looks nervous, and he stumbles out his order.

“Just to clarify, you want a large black coffee and a croissant?” Tessa asks, her pen hovering over the cup, ready to write on it.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s my niece’s birthday party tonight and I’m supposed to be helping with the decorations, except I have no idea where to find . . .” He pauses to look down at his phone, and then grins up at her sheepishly. “Two dozen cupcakes and one of those pin-the-crown-on-the-princess things.”

She raises an eyebrow as she fills the cup with coffee. “I don't know about the princess thing, but there’s a bakery right next door. I’d offer you these cupcakes, but we don’t have two dozen of them.”

He waves her off and takes the coffee. “It’s okay. I’m not sure a seven-year-old would care if the cupcakes look different, but my brother and his wife certainly would. How is the bakery next door?”

“I’ve never had their cupcakes, but my sister bought one of their cakes for my mom’s birthday last year, and it was pretty good.”

He nods, and in this light, his eyes look more green than hazel. 

It’s a good look for him, she decides (not that she should be judging the cute guys that come into where she works), with the contrast to the darkness of his hair.

“I’ll have to try it out, then,” he’s saying now, smiling.

Tessa blinks and looks away from him, a little bit ashamed that she was lost in thought while he's still in front of her, waiting on his pastry. “Sorry, what? It was crazy in here earlier, I guess I'm not used to the quiet.”

“The bakery. I’ll have to check it out.”

“Yeah, you definitely should check it out,” she tells him as she reaches into the glass case to grab a croissant.

She puts it in a paper bag with the coffee shop’s logo on it and hands it to him. “You’re really handsome, you know.”

Nice going, telling a stranger that you think he’s handsome. Now you have to quit your job and probably move to Antarctica. 

“Uh, thanks. I actually didn’t know that, because people will never actually see their faces, only in the mirror and in photographs. Other people will see it, sure, but I won’t ever see my own face.”

“My brother always used to tell us things like that all the time at dinner, until one night my dad was so fed up with it that he told him to stop. I’ve thought that stuff was kind of cool, though.”

He smiles. “Yeah, me too. It gets kind of freaky if you think about it for too long.”

Tessa can’t help but smile back. “That’s true.”

“I think you’re really pretty. Your eyes are so green, they’re stunning. I’m Scott, by the way.”

She blushes. “Thank you, Scott. I’m Tessa.”

“Well, Tessa, I should probably get going. Thanks for the coffee.”

She stares at him. “Um, of course.”

Scott scratches the back of his neck and laughs nervously. “Right. I’ll let you know how those cupcakes are.”

“Please do and have a good day! Glad I could help with the cupcakes!”

And with that, he gives her a smile before heading outside, where it’s begun to snow.

Tessa is sitting behind the counter a few days later, lost in her book, when the front door opens and closes so loudly that she almost falls off of her chair.

“Hi!” comes a small voice, and Tessa sets down her book to see a young girl, dressed in pink with her hair in pigtails, followed by Scott, the guy from the other day, the one asking about cupcakes for his niece’s birthday party.

“Why hello,” she says, looking from the girl in front of her to Scott.

“Hi,” he greets, “this is Ellie, and she wanted to say thank you for the cupcakes.”

“It’s _Ellison_ to the nice barista lady, Uncle Scotty! She doesn’t know me yet, so she doesn’t get to call me Ellie.”

“Oh.” Scott raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “Sorry, this is Ellison, and she’s very particular about who calls her Ellie and who doesn’t.”

Ellison nods approvingly. “That’s better.”

“Well, Ellison, did you like the cupcakes at your party?” Tessa asks.

“Yeah,” Scott’s niece replies, her grin widening. “They were really good and very pretty, so thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want anything?”

She turns to look at her uncle. “Can I have a coffee, please?”

“How about a hot chocolate?” he asks, and Ellison shrugs.

“A hot chocolate with whip cream?” she replies.

“You got it, Ellie.”

“So, one hot chocolate with whip cream and . . . Scott, what about you?”

“Just a large black coffee,” he answers, as Ellison motions for him to lean down so that she can whisper in his ear.

He does, grins at whatever she says, before she runs off in the direction of the restrooms.

“She’s a cute kid.”

“Yeah, she’s the best. This might be a little soon, but do you want to get dinner sometime? I bet you’re pretty sick of coffee.”

Tessa laughs. “Of course, either sounds great. I may work with coffee, but I’m more of a tea person myself, so it doesn’t matter where we go, as long as it’s not here. How cliché would it be if I wrote my number on the side of your coffee cup?”

Now it’s Scott’s turn to laugh. “Not cliché at all. In fact, I think that’d be cute.”


End file.
